Extraordinary Doesn't Exist
by Championship Vinyl
Summary: One night's misstep finds Esplanie falling on crisis. What happens when a good thing becomes too much... Can the damage be repaired? Or is extraordinary too much to hope for? Pro-ESPLANIE breakup fic, other characters included. Give it a chance!
1. Earthquake

.

**So, once again, I have ApollaCammi, Cait and Mollie to blame for this. Mostly Cait, because…well, monkey see, monkey do, so that makes me the Writermonkey in all this. XD Thanks for your epic feedback, m'dears. ^_^**

**This can either go with the rest of my canon, or be considered AU - I think it works both ways, so I don't really care. Basically, we all need a little angst once in a while, breakups happen, relationships hit valleys, and not everything is perfect…or **_**extraordinary**_**. There's actually a quote from the movie '**_**Hitch**_**' that inspired the title:**

_**Hitch**_**: "What if fine isn't good enough? What if I want extraordinary?"**

_**Sara**_**: "…Doesn't exist."**

**I figured it was fitting, since it's one of Castle's favorite words and all. ;)**

**Anyway. This is FULL of angst, and it should be about four chapters long. Rating is high due to thematic elements. I abuse Esplanie because I love them. xD So without further ado, get a handful of tissues and enjoy. **

.

.

It seemed to take years between when the light reached the window and when it finally reached Lanie's eyes. Sounds didn't come until another several years after that, not that there were many. Everything was coming in foggy. The aftereffects of that much alcohol left her trying to put together the pieces.

Last night…she didn't have a lot of specific memories to call back on. There had been a late night home from work…and tequila. A _lot_ of tequila. After that, there wasn't much that stood out of the haze, except…she'd wanted him. Oh, she remembered _that_, all right. After a long-suffering hell of a week, she'd been desperate. She'd driven straight to her apartment, called him to meet her there with two bottles of the hardest alcohol he could find, and then it had taken them along. Feverish, fast and slow…

Forget last night. It was starting to register where she was _now_. She was lying on her side, the sheets were familiar and tangled, and something warm and heavy was draped across her waist. His arm, she realized. The next thing that sank in was the steady rhythm of his breath against the back of her neck.

Lanie should have felt relaxed. _Physically_, she did, other than the pounding hangover that'd taken up residence in her skull…but there was something else there. She brought up a hand to rub across her forehead, letting out a little groan as she _tried_ to think of what wasn't right, here…

And then her eyes sprang open. It wasn't something _there_ that was out of place. It was something that _wasn't_. _Hadn't_ been.

"Oh, no…" _How_ had she been _stupid_ enough to overlook that? Throwing off Javier's arm, then the sheets, Lanie sat up no matter _what_ it did to her headache and started hunting around the room, getting dressed as quickly and haphazardly as possible, cursing herself the whole way.

That was enough to cause her drinking partner to stir. When the bed shifted, Javier groaned as the outside world came back to him, trying to fry his brain in slow increments. By the time Lanie had found half of her clothing, he'd sat up, and she felt his eyes on her back.

"…Hey."

She didn't turn around, her mouth set into a grim line. "We gotta get to work," she mumbled, snatching up her blouse from the carpet.

"_Cari_, if you're anything like _I_ am right now, you can't even _see_ straight. I'd call in before I'd trust scalpels and dead people 'bout now."

"We shouldn't have done a _damn_ thing last night," she blurted, staring at the buttons she was trying to do up, her face growing hot.

His confusion was pretty palpable. Just like that, the mood change in the room was as evident for him as for her. "…Okay, maybe it wasn't the most mature _idea_, but, I'd say the result was - "

"Stupid. Reckless. _Beyond_." It was cover, all of it. Fear talking. In truth, it was the best she'd ever had. It wasn't all _alcohol_ that'd blinded her. It was _him_. She'd _let_ herself be blinded. She'd craved him, and now she was paying for it. It was all wrong. She had more _resistance_ than that. Or was _supposed_ to, anyway.

"I…I wouldn't call it _stupid_…reckless, maybe…"

Her stubbornness was too far gone with her, determined to block out anything he thought he had to say. "Oh no. It was both. I _never_ would've expected this from _you_. How irresponsible can you even _be_?" She realized how angry she sounded; far angrier than she actually _was_ at anyone but _herself_. She shook her head, buttoning her top button. "I can't believe you did that."

Hungover or not, this was _not_ what he'd expected to hear. Javier's voice was suddenly a lot clearer, almost _affronted_. "Okay, you need to quit actin' like I raped you."

Lanie whipped around, eyes narrowed. "Don't even _joke_ about that. I didn't say that."

"Well that's what it's soundin' like to _me_." She knew by his tone that it was suddenly too late to go back. This was an argument now. But a hell of a lot bigger. "Don't you act like you weren't willing," he lectured, reminding her of everything she just wanted to forget. "You practically _dragged_ me in there. '_Don't stop, Javi, don't leave, Javi_' - you 'member that? _I_ backed off; I _told_ you I didn't have anything with me. You damn well _begged_ me to keep goin' anyway. What did you _expect_ after that much alcohol?"

Was he _mocking_ her now? Was that how this was going? Lanie glared him down. "You were less drunk than _I_ was. You should've known better." _Guess I forgot never to trust the_ guy _with something that important_. She was blaming him pretty unfairly, and she knew it. But it was the best she had.

"Well I'm sorry I'm not _psychic_, Lanie." _Obviously_ he wasn't at his best, because there was a little derision in his tone that time, intended or not.

It only made her want to slap him across the face. "I can't _believe_ you're so arrogant about this."

Javier laughed in disbelief, but there was zero humor in it. "Oh, I'm _arrogant_ now," he challenged. "Right. What's the big deal, anyway? You're on the pill, right?"

The five words that formed a knot of dread in her stomach. Not saying anything, Lanie marched out of the room, walked to the couch, and rummaged through her purse. When she returned, storming back to find him standing and dressed from the waist down, she held up her empty box of birth control, a Post-It attached to the front. Right there for him to see for himself. "I _was_," she practically growled. "My prescription ran out three days ago. I've been waiting on my check to get another. You get it now? Or do I need to talk slower?"

"_Hey_," he commanded. That was enough, especially with having to absorb what she was saying. "_Do_ not insult me. I'm your boyfriend, not your dog. You're freaked, I get it. Calm the hell down."

He had the _nerve_ to tell _her_ to '_calm down_?' With the weight of what was happening here, he was just going to _brush it off_ like that? Lanie fought the urge to punch him senseless, and as for reason - the same that said they were both hungover, hearing selectively - reason didn't enter into it anymore. "Don't talk to me. Don't _look_ at me."

Javier balked instantly, stopping halfway through buttoning his shirt to stare at her. "What's _that_ supposed to mean?"

"I'm glad you don't care," she started, and some self-loathing part of her knew that she was tearing everything down, doing damage that they'd all later regret. "I'm happy for you that you can create a mess like this and then roll your macho ass on home for everybody else to clean it up. Well that's _fine_ for you, but _me_, I've got some pretty damn big concerns right about now."

"Would you _listen_ to yourself?" Javier was far past exasperated, his eyes narrowed now. "We don't even _know_ anything for sure."

Lanie barely heard the next words out of her mouth, but they happened, robotically, before she could think to take them back.

"I need to get ready for work. You need to get out."

The air seemed to still in the room. It fell over both of them, and Javier was the first to speak through it, reading what she meant all over her face. He was the detective, after all. The one feeling betrayal. And more than that. "...Are you _endin_' this right now?"

She couldn't look at him. She busied herself, gathering things for work, hoping no one could hear her heart falling through the earth. "I'll let you know if I want to see you again, Esposito."

There was a long silence, and then she heard the man she loved move to the door. "Fine. I'll let you know if I'm still _around_."

The _slam_ might as well have been a gunshot.

.

.

**So, yeah! I absolutely hope that this never **_**actually happens**_**. XD Intense. You'll have to stay tuned to see if this gets fixed or not. ;)**

**Interested in a written Castle RPG? Go check the bold paragraph in my profile. Info's there.**

**So! Thoughts? Opinions? I know you've got 'em! PLEASE be so kind as to review. I love to know that people out there are actually reading. 'Tis why I publish. ;) Thanks guys. **

.


	2. Aftershocks

.

**Last chapter was pretty painful (well, for **_**me**_** anyway). If you love you some Javi, this one really isn't going to be a whole lot better, so get tissues… OH! But Castle and Ryan are in this chapter, and Castle is his adorable self. ^_^ He's a good friend. So, quit listening to **_**me**_**; go read. ;)**

.

.

"Gimme 'nother. C'mon." A loose slap of the bar counter brought the bartender back in his direction.

"No." The voice wasn't the bartender's. It was Kevin Ryan's. The blue-eyed detective had been watching his friend put away beer after beer for the better part of an _hour_, then watched with a lot _more_ concern when he started switching to whiskey. Now, he spoke up, putting a hand out to the bartender. "He's cut off. I'm takin' 'im home." Kevin slid the man another twenty for his troubles.

Esposito shook his head, with what little command he still _had_ over it. "Naw. Naw, bro."

"_Yes_." Kevin wasn't stern often, but when he was, God help the sleestak arguing on the other side.

Even falling-down drunk, Esposito seemed to understand that it was time to go home, because he nodded lazily and swirled around on his barstool. "A'ight. Easy. I'm out."

Kevin nodded, and stood after his partner, sliding his wallet back into his pocket. No sooner had Javier tried to take a step, though, than his footing weaved, and he pitched forward. Ryan body-blocked him. "Whoa whoa _whoa_, hey, hey." He braced his friend's shoulder and held him up before he had a chance to topple over, easing him back to a standing position. "You're not going _anywhere_, big guy."

While Ryan looped Javier's arm behind his shoulders, Javier tried blearily to bat him away. "Rhy'n. C'mon man, Kev, 'm fine. I c'n drive home. Lemme out."

Ryan rolled his eyes. "Okay, if you think I would _ever_ be dumb enough to agree to that, you're a lot more plastered than I thought."

"Th'n lemme walk," Javier slurred, stubborn as a jackass 'til the end.

"Into traffic? Yeah, I highly doubt that. Come on. Now." He started to gingerly walk his partner outside.

"Rhy'n-"

"_Now_."

"Mmrrgh." Nobody was quite sure _what_ that noise was, but Ryan succeeded in getting his friend outside, down the curb, and into the back of the car. As an afterthought, he went around to the front passenger's side, opened the glove box, and rummaged through until he found a paper bag. Kept a pack in there for the occasional junkie they picked up.

"Here," he said, tossing it into the backseat. "Don't throw up on my seatcovers."

"Rrgh." Esposito waved him off. He didn't even bother sitting up, crashed across the entire backseat.

Kevin drove tensely and silently the whole way back to his apartment. His _own_ apartment - he wasn't going to trust enough to leave Esposito alone right now. Every few blocks, he stole another glance at his partner in the rearview mirror, wishing he knew the details. Javier wouldn't talk. The whole evening, the man hadn't said a _word_ about it, just insisted they catch drinks after work and proceeded to drink the bar out of its week's supply… But Kevin had a guess. This was about Lanie. She'd left him. Lanie had _left_ him. All the signs were there. And Espo had never dealt with that before. Of _course_ all he'd wanted to do was drown himself. The guy was not a talker to _begin_ with. Especially not after this.

Funny how self-destruction just sort of…_happened_.

Whatever thoughts he had toward Lanie, they weren't justified yet - _yet_ - so Ryan only drove. He kept on driving until he pulled the car up to the curb outside his building, killed the ignition, and got out. He went around back again, slipping his keys into his coat pocket as he reached in for Javier's arm. "Up. Come with me. C'mon."

However he did it, he managed to keep Esposito walking somewhat in tandem with him, thankful that he didn't live on an insane floor number as he trudged his Hispanic comrade up each flight of stairs. Somewhere back around the first set, he'd decided to start mumbling. The trigger was bound to come sometime.

"Asked me," Javier was saying. "…Shoulda told me. I didn't know…"

"Yeah, I know ya didn't," Ryan consoled him, not entirely sure what bandwagon he was jumping onto. Not that it mattered. He'd be on it anyway. One more flight of stairs to go.

"'N' last _night_…beautiful. She was…_fire_…moved like I never - "

"Any amount of money if you stop right there, Quart Low."

"_Now_…nah. I'unno. Over. Sh'sgone."

Ryan's mouth turned to a fine line. So he'd been right. Lanie had actually walked out on his bro. And, from the way-too-close-to-TMI sound of it, she'd done it pretty suddenly, too. Surprising that Esposito'd gotten through the _workday_ without cracking about it. Adjusting his shoulders under Javier's arm, Kevin changed the incoherent subject, nodding up at the hallway landing ahead. "Couple more steps here. One foot. Next one. There ya go. Just two doors."

His apartment door was in front of him in the minute. Made pretty good time, considering that hauling a semi-cooperative gym-rat up several flights of stairs was pretty difficult for most guys. Deciding against fumbling with his keys again, Ryan knocked softly on the door instead, hoping Jenny was awake.

Luck of the Irish. After a few moments and soft footsteps, the blonde in her college tee and pink-and-green sweatpants opened the door. An immediate look of concern etched into her features, and she stepped aside. "Kevin! Is he okay?" she asked quietly.

"He will be," Kevin answered her, taking his partner to the couch. "Hey, can you throw down that blanket? Don't want him to wake up and have a hissy fit." The half-roll of his eyes did nothing to lighten the mood, but he wasn't about to subject Javier to the extra annoyance of roadkill. The man was a baby about the damn couch, but, Ryan would save that for some other time when his girlfriend _hadn't_ just dropped him. Jenny nodded and quickly complied, and Kevin explained as he steered his bro toward the right crashing point. "He decided to drink the whole bar. Wasn't _done_, either, but I stopped him." Ryan wasn't about to lose his partner to _alcohol_ poisoning, of all things, and it'd looked like it was getting there. As a prank parting gift from Narc, there was a Breathalyzer in the hall closet. Joke was on _them_, because the thing worked, and he wasn't afraid to use it if he had to.

Jenny gasped softly. "_Why_?"

"Lanie dumped him, Jen." Well, she was going to find out sooner or later. Why hide the truth? Or be anything but blunt, for that matter. He could have said '_He and Lanie broke up_,' but he wasn't quite feeling that generous. Kevin noticed his fiancée's jaw fall open, and he continued for her sake. "I don't know any of the specifics. He wouldn't talk about it; best I got was drunk ramblings out of 'im."

"Well, of _course_, I can imagine." Jenny shook her head in shock, staring maternally at the man on her couch for a moment before looking back to Kevin. "Has anyone talked to Lanie about this?"

Ryan shook his head. "Not that I know of. My money's on Beckett, though." It was definitely a talk to have in the morning. In the meantime, Ryan pointed at his partner. "You mind if he stays here tonight?"

"You don't have to ask," Jenny assured. "I'll get an extra blanket from the hall closet."

"Thanks Jenny." Ryan gave his fiancée a kiss on the cheek as she headed off, and with a watchful glance at Javier, went to go get some rest himself…but was stopped when he heard Javier stir, starting to mumble something. Kevin turned around.

"…_Loved_ her."

"…I know, bro." Kevin didn't like this. He didn't like it at _all_. But for now, there was nothing more to do. So he turned, shut off the light, and went to bed, hoping morning would bring them _all_ a little divine intervention.

.

.

.

On a scale of 'World-Class Bro' to 'Total Piker,' Ryan was pretty proud of how he'd handled things last night. There was just one thing he _hadn't_ thought about, which he realized as he was getting ready for work in the morning. He would be at the precinct, Jenny would be at her _own_ job…that left Esposito, alone on the couch. Wasn't the point so that he _didn't_ have to fend for himself after drinking himself senseless?

Ryan thought about this. There was no _way_ Esposito was going to work this morning; he was calling him in, _that_ was a given. But who could look after him for a few hours, just to make sure he didn't wake up feeling more miserable and alone or worse, find something else to drink… _Ah_. After a few moments' deliberation, the one choice was obvious, and Ryan picked up the phone.

The call connected. "_You've got Castle_."

"Hey, Castle. It's Ryan. Listen, can I ask you a favor?" He kept his voice down, peeking into the living room to make sure his 80-proof charge was still zonked out in there.

"_Ask away, my friend; I think it's about time I start repaying my many debts to society…_"

"Great. I just need you to keep an eye on Javier for the morning. Possibly afternoon, depending on how well he can walk a straight line by then."

"_Uh-oh, I see we've reached first-name territory - how much did he drink?_"

"Well, enough to put down an _actual_ bull, I think, let's put it that way." Ryan hesitated to leak any more information than that, but, ultimately decided it would be obvious soon enough anyway, so he took a breath and went with it. "It's a Lanie thing. He said they're over; that was about all I got."

"_Say no more_," Castle said on the other line. "_Believe me, there's nothing I understand better._"

"Thanks, Castle," Ryan sighed, checking his watch. "I'll drop him by your place in half an hour on my way to work. He should be fine, just keep him away from windows."

"_Will do_," the writer saluted, "_Will do_."

.

.

.

Javier barely remembered the transit. _Either_ transit. He barely remembered…well, _anything_. Except the knot in his gut, keeping a sour company somewhere behind the nausea, south of the bitter taste of a _hell_ of a lot of strong, strong alcohol. _That_ was as familiar as an old friend.

"Aagh." He sat up slowly, gingerly, squinting hard against the light pouring in from the wall of windows across from him. At the moment, he didn't even remember knowing anyone who _had_ that many windows. Or…lived that high off the _ground_. That was some kinda city out there. Probably full of people who _didn't_ feel like they had nails drilled into their skull.

Leaning his elbows on his knees, Javier let his head fall into his hands, resting in repose at the carpet like that until an upbeat voice roused him out of his own self-beration.

"Ah, welcome back, Sleeping Drunky," it called. Agh. Why'd he have to be so _loud_. Or getting closer. "I whipped you up a little something that'll help take the edge off, so drink up. I'm afraid you have no choice or I'll have to tell Ryan that I've failed miserably as a detective-sitter." Javier looked up, head heavy, and saw the Castle who belonged to the voice, who was holding out a clear plastic glass of something green and concocted-looking. "Save us both," the latter man finished in a stage-whisper.

Cautiously, Javier placated him and took the damn thing, staring into the murky disgustingness for a moment before deciding there was no way his life was going to get _worse_ at this point. Why not. He lifted the glass and threw a sip back like a shot, wincing afterwards. "_Damn_, Castle," he grimaced, sounding hoarse even to himself. "What the hell's _in_ there?"

"It's a patented recipe we've been working with. Fifty percent wheatgrass juice, ten percent green tea, ten percent anything healthy from the fridge in a juicer, two percent hair-of-the-dog…" The writer walked around the coffee table and took a seat in the chair opposite. "I used to make one of those for Mother every morning ages eight through twelve."

Well. _That_ explained a lot, then. Giving a nod of thanks - if you could call it that - Esposito leaned forward and set his glass on the coffee table. "I'll finish it later," he reasoned.

Castle didn't even blink. "Good idea. Let it marinate." Then, he studied his detective friend for a moment, finally working up the right words to ask his question. "…So." He made a point to sound a lot less Wiseass, and a little more genuinely concerned…it didn't turn out to be difficult. "I hear there's a…specific _reason_ you chose to bake yourself last night…?"

And there it was. It had to be inevitable, didn't it? Javier wasn't going to question how Castle knew. He had a few good guesses, based on what little he _did_ remember about he last twenty-four hours, and…well, he didn't want to get into it. The knot in his stomach seemed to want him all to itself, and that didn't leave room for a lot of useless verbatim. He nodded, looking away.

"And…" Castle pressed cautiously, sensing that this was a rare fragile topic. "Just, for the record…you know that, while I'm no Ryan, I do have a decent set of ears. In case you decide you…_would_…like to talk about it. …Not that you'd want to talk about it, of course."

Esposito glanced over at his friend. He paused for a long moment. Then he nodded again, this time adding a word to it. "…Yeah." _…Thanks bro._

Castle nodded as well, and stood up. For once, that was as far as he was going to go with it. He understood what that felt like. "Okay then. I'm going to go see if Alexis left any waffle mix. There is _nothing_ more alcohol-absorbent than waffles. I think it's something to do with the grids."

More than anything, Javier was eternally grateful that _that_ was the note Castle walked away on. He just wished the man didn't have a constant replay of Lanie projected on his billionth-story windows.

…Oh, wait. That was the alcohol too.

.

.

**Awwwww. xD Anyone else want to hug him now? I did. Seriously. I'm depressing myself. XD**

**Want info on a Castle RPG community? Go to my profile and read the bold paragraph. Want more of this story? Drop a review to let me know! I'd LOVE to know what you guys are thinking. Details are my best friend! ^^ Thanks everyone. **

.


	3. Common Ground

.

**Now that we've seen Javier, we'll back up to catch up with Lanie. She internalizes a lot in this one, but at least she reaches some answers with it, so buckle in. ;) And say hi to Beckett, who finally shows up! ^^ Anyway, go ahead.**

.

.

If Perlmutter heard anything different over the phone when Lanie called in to work that day, the other M.E. was kind enough not to say anything. Which suited Lanie just fine, because, if she were being completely honest with herself, she didn't know what to do, or where to go. Then again…if she were being completely honest with herself, she wouldn't have blamed Javier for their _mutual_ indiscretion. They wouldn't have fought. She wouldn't have said those Godawful words. He wouldn't have left.

The first place she went was nowhere. Driving aimlessly around mid-Manhattan was as good a stall tactic as any. The second place was a drugstore. She bought a small bag of popcorn because she _knew_ she hadn't eaten, and it ended up in the trash anyway. And she bought two ClearBlue pregnancy tests. She wasn't sure _what_ she was doing on that one. Couldn't take them for two weeks. Right? Wasn't that the timeframe? You couldn't tell until two weeks after the deed?

Whatever. It was twenty-six dollars she'd wasted, nothing but a look from the cashier to show for it. What did it matter. She was probably using up that much cash twice over just in gas alone, just by driving around.

It was ironic, wasn't it? No, she didn't _care_ whether it was or not, or what Castle might have called it: it was ironic. She knew that much. All of it, the whole relationship. It was just supposed to be about the hooking up. The whole time, just that, no strings, and _definitely_ no feelings beyond working friendship. Then, as soon as they'd both gotten comfortable with it being _more_ than that…it all fell apart. _Because_ of hooking up. There was something seriously the hell wrong with that.

And the saddest thing was, _that_ was the broken record that was playing in her head the whole time. In an awful, unintentional way, she'd set all of this up herself. _She_ had been the one who asked him to meet her at her apartment. _She_ had gone in with every intention of getting them both _way_ beyond tipsy and having her way and no less with him. _She hadn't told him about the prescription_. And then she'd said yes, even when _he'd stopped_, telling her that he wasn't as prepared as she would've liked. _She'd_ caused her own reason for panic. He'd tried to be a gentleman. _She'd_ done this. And she didn't even know _why_ she'd been so reckless in the _first_ place. Now it'd ruined everything.

Bluntly, she'd jumped him, then she'd dumped him.

Wasn't there a word for that? Yeah. _Sabotage_. There was nothing fair about that, and it was her penance to pay.

Lanie hated herself. Not as a rule, but right _now_, most definitely. She hated that he got to make her feel this way. She hated herself for falling so far, so fast, or even for falling at _all_. She hated herself for hating herself, because she was _stronger than this_, damn it. Lanie Parish picked and chose the men she wanted, and she didn't _need_ any _one_ of them to get by. What exactly was she giving up, here, anyway? Yes; list. The list would help.

Well, might as well start with the obvious. There was the sex. But honestly. Was it really better with Javier than with so many other guys? …Well…_yes_. For a whole lot of reasons that she wasn't really sure she understood. With him… It was just _different_. There were things you couldn't explain, and that was one of them. And, looking back on her irrationality with a little hindsight…_had_ that night really been worth it, even if it meant that she could be…? Yes. Lanie knew she wouldn't take it back, even if she could. Being with him was the _one_ memory that stood out clearly from that fog, and if she were erasing things from the scorecard, the only thing she would erase would be her stupid panic in the morning.

But…it wasn't just _that_ that she was giving up anymore. There were a million little things. A subtle wink and a smile from him when he accompanied the others down to the morgue. Lunch from her favorite restaurant that he'd order and bring to her when she had to work through. The rainy evening they'd spent kissing on his couch when she'd been too tired to go further, and the completely crappy movies they'd gotten kicked out of in Tribeca for throwing popcorn. Making sucker bets over Beckett and Castle and the next time Ryan embarrassed himself, and the way she felt when she woke up in his arms, even if they'd done nothing the night before but fall asleep.

_Damn_ it.

All too easily, Lanie _knew_ why she'd been so reckless. She knew why she'd wanted him that badly. With the hell of a week she'd had - the same one she'd _gladly_ take back now - all she'd wanted was something that felt like…_home_.

And he was it.

He'd become her safe option. All those months that'd he'd first flirted with her, she had kept him at bay because he was a risk. Not only did he come with a bachelor's reputation, but his life was in danger on a daily basis. There was no security in investing herself in him. Anything could happen. _Life_ could happen. But _now_…somehow, in the middle of everything, now he _was_ her security. She'd fallen all the way in, all because he'd proven himself a man of his word; because she'd bought that her Javier would never leave her. Except Life could still happen, and take it all away. Something she'd allowed herself to forget.

In short, Lanie had broken the rules. Not just work rules, but _her _rules. She'd put her shot at happiness - everything she had - entirely in someone else's hands. Given up her hard-won independence, and to someone whose presence alone made her forget what was supposed to be important. Someone _else_ had hold of the rug under her feet.

And that scared the _hell_ out of her.

_Look_ at her. She was no better than Beckett. She'd thrown away a great guy - maybe even the _best_ guy - because she was too damn chicken to love him right. Now, she _had_ her independence; she _had_ all the control… She'd hurt him, she was damn miserable, and for all she knew, she could be on her way to single-motherhood. _Was it worth it, Parish?_

The answer was too damn obvious to say, even in her head. Suddenly, Lanie knew where she was going, and, driving or not, she dug a hand through her purse in the passenger seat, pulling out her cell phone, eyes on the road, for whatever it was worth.

'_You've reached Detective Kate Beckett. Leave a message with your information and I'll get back to you as quickly as I can. Thanks._'

"…Hey girl."

.

.

.

Kate Beckett had stepped out of the shower to find her cell phone flashing: '_1 missed call_.' As soon as she listened to the voicemail, she was instantly glad that she'd been ordered the day off. Right away, she retrieved the number from her speed-dial and called her best friend back.

"Hey. You okay? …No, absolutely. Come on over. …Okay."

Twenty minutes later, though, nothing was much clearer. When Lanie had pressed the buzzer on her door, Kate hadn't wasted any time ushering her inside, steering her to the couch, or pushing a half-pint of Ben & Jerry's into the M.E.'s hands. She had turned off her cell, too, and sat down on the opposite cushion, staring with the intent concern that only a best friend could possibly understand. But Lanie was only talking in bits and pieces, and there was only so much Kate - even Kate - could do with that.

Beckett shook her head, not entirely sure what she was hearing here. "Wait, _wait_. He _what_?"

_Gragh_. He _didn't_. _Why_ was that everybody's first conclusion? "It was _my_ idea, okay?" Lanie clarified, a little exasperated. "_I_ was the guilty party here, the instigator; it was _my_ brilliant plan to go Singin' In The Rain without an Umbrella. Is that better?"

"Okay," Kate reasoned, the word sounding roughly the same as '_ew_' would have. "_God_. So…then, you…he just _left_?"

Lanie glanced down at the untouched chocolate soup in her hands, dropping her voice a little. "I told him to."

A true form of sympathy only _she_ knew how to harness fell over Kate's face. "Oh…Lanie…"

"Yeah…I know." _And here you are comfortin' me about it when_ I'm _the one whose fault it is. I screwed up. I really screwed up._

Beckett was sure to tread extra carefully, here. "So… Do you think… Is…there a chance…you could be…?"

"…I don't know" was the only answer she had there to give. Looking away, Lanie desperately wished for some miracle to tell her different. And if not, then going backward a day would be nice.

.

.

.

"Hey Beckett?"

It was the following day, and Castle had just left her a message while she was in the box. Something about 'not being able to come in this morning' because 'a friend could use a hand at the moment.' And it was '_someone you know_.' For a mystery writer, Castle sure wasn't subtle; the pieces were pretty easy for Kate to put together. Especially seeing as Esposito was listed as being on sick leave for the day. Then again; maybe Castle hadn't been trying to be covert. Maybe he'd just been trying to be discreet, for _all_ their sakes. It was something to think about.

Either way, Kate turned around to see Ryan standing ahead of her, wearing a fresh suit for the day and a more serious expression than she knew he was _capable_ of in casual company. Well it was a good thing, then, because she wanted to talk to him, too. "Yeah?"

"Breakroom, okay?" With a tilt of his head, Ryan was around the corner, through the doorway in question.

Odd. It hadn't sounded like a _question_. Not that he _had_ to ask her, but, with Ryan, everything usually _was_ a question. Not that it mattered. Sliding her chair under the desk, Kate put her computer to sleep and walked into the breakroom, coming to a stop near the coffee machine, her arms folded.

Before she had a chance to speak, Ryan did. "You've heard, right?"

Beckett exhaled. Nobody wasted any time around here, did they. "…Yeah. I've heard."

The Irishman gave a nod, looking down and away. That was their moment of mutual understanding, and then it was gone. Ryan was too concerned with a resolution to make it last. He looked right back up, making his determination clear. "You talk to Lanie yet?"

_No, I found out from the surveillance team I've had spying through her window_, Beckett wanted to scoff. Instead, she answered, "Of _course_ I've talked to Lanie."

"So, what are we going to do?"

_We_? What _was_ this? "_We_? Are going to do nothing. This is up to _them_; it's their business whether they want to fix it or not. Us getting involved isn't going to help anyone."

"We can't just _not do anything_, Beckett." Ryan lowered his voice a few clicks, holding her stare. "She completely hung Espo out to dry. Now I don't know if she has a good _reason_ or not, but I'm betting you really don't want me to go down to the morgue and find out right now."

"You obviously have _no_ idea what the circumstances are here, _do_ you Ryan?" God, this was already getting old. She got that Ryan and Esposito backed each other up no matter what, but Lanie didn't deserve anyone's blame in this, either. It wouldn't help anything.

"Obviously _not_," Ryan snipped. "All I seem to know is that I had to pull Javi off a _barstool_ last night to make sure he didn't walk into a _parking_ meter. I'm not exactly in Camp Lanie at the moment, so, yeah, details would be good."

Kate snapped, and then it was out there. "She could be _pregnant_, Ryan."

The other detective's eyes widened to twice their size. "And she didn't _tell_ him?"

"What makes you think he doesn't _know_?" Beckett gaped, unwilling to toss the possibility.

Ryan seemed just as shocked she _was_ considering it. "I know Esposito. If he knew, he would _never_ bail. I can't believe _you_ of all people would even _think_ he'd do somethin' like that."

Beckett let out a frustrated sigh, trying to get things back in order, here. "I _don't_, okay?" She rubbed a hand across her forehead, working up a good way to say what she wanted to. "I don't. I like them together too, and if I could've picked anyone for Lanie, the fact is that he probably wouldnt've been better than Esposito. But the _fact_ is, right _now_, Lanie needs to figure this out, and she obviously wants to do it with a clear head. Alone. So, we need to respect her space."

"So she _did_!" Ryan concluded.

_Are we even having the same conversation?_ "Did _what_?"

"She kicked him out!"

"It was _her apartment_!"

Ryan didn't just roll his eyes; he rolled his entire _head_ back. "You know what I _mean_, Beckett - it was _Lanie_ who did the breaking-up-with."

"Is that what _he_ told you?" Beckett demanded. "It's not that black-and-white!" She didn't _want_ to seem biased, she really didn't, but she couldn't help being just a little more protective of Lanie. After all, Lanie was the one who wouldn't know for two more weeks whether she was _carrying_ anything or not. The _last_ thing she wanted to do was turn on Esposito, and she _wasn't_; she was just…she was stuck in a bad place, here.

"_He_ hasn't told me _anything_," Ryan emphasized, "other than the relationship's gone to crap and how beautiful she was and half a dozen other drunk-guy classics that usually come from a recent unwilling dump-ee. So yeah," he added, taking a sarcastic turn, "I've been putting all this together using my vast expertise as a _dentist_."

_Oh, for the love of God_. "Ryan…"

"Hey, I'm just saying I _get_ it. Okay?"

"I know." Beckett sank her back against the countertop, burying her face in both hands for a moment before shoving them both backward through her hair. _What_ was going _on_ here? While she attempted to figure that out, exactly, she let a quiet fall over the room. Finally, she cast a look over at Ryan. "…Maybe this is why people who work together shouldn't date."

He just looked puzzled now; puzzled and tired. "What do you mean?"

"Well, look at _us_." Beckett gestured around at them. "_We're_ fighting and we're not even the ones with the _relationship_."

"Yeah, thank God for _that_," Ryan mumbled under his breath. His default setting was always 'lighten the mood,' even if he was the only one listening.

"What was that?"

"I hear _that_." Ryan coughed into his elbow, Beckett took it at face-value with a nod, and then it got quiet again. The next time Ryan spoke, he seemed to have let a lot of things sink in, and he looked and sounded a lot more…_sheepish_. The innocent sibling, looking for hope. "…But...Lanie and Espo are different, right?"

Kate looked at her detective then. And…realistic a person as she was, she couldn't bring herself not to tell the truth. "...Yeah."

"...I don't like this, Beckett."

"...Yeah. Neither do I."

They had something in common that moment, besides just being the Best Friend to opposite sides of one wayward couple. But unfortunately, that was just the way it was going to be.

.

.

**I wasn't sure if Beckett and Ryan would take sides and argue over this, or find common ground about it, so I had them do both. I love the sibling-ness of their relationship. ^^ Poor Beckett; Lanie's her best friend but Javi's like a brother to her, so she's really stuck in a crappy place here…I think she does okay with it. **

**Points if any of you caught the Glee reference when Lanie was talking to Beckett. Why yes, yes I did - I had to lighten the mood, okay? XD**

**As always, anyone ages 14 and over who are interested in a written Castle RPG, check the bold paragraph in my profile. And hey you! All you readers! PLEASE review. I would seriously love that. It's nice to know what you're thinking, if you're taking the time and interest to follow me on this. Which I thank you greatly for doing. ^_^**

**The next chapter should sum everything up, so get ready. I promise not to disappoint. ;)**

.


	4. Recovery

.

**Back again! We'll get some of Javi's (NON-drunk) internal process this time, and FINALLY we come to a conclusion…read on. ;)**

.

.

He couldn't count the number of times he'd let his thumb hover over '_call_' on his phone, her number highlighted on the screen. Maybe he should have. Maybe if he'd _counted_ every time that that'd happened, then maybe he'd have to admit that everyone was justified when they looked at him a little sideways. Like they were making sure he was all right.

He _wasn't_ 'all right.' _Everything_ was wrong.

It was funny. Well, _no_, it wasn't funny at _all_, but…it was _ironic_ that, after all the things he'd been through in his life - violence, war, betrayal, lies, looking death in the eye - _this_ was the one that he couldn't keep in. Not that he was even _trying_ to be outward about it. He'd been professional enough; he'd come to work every day since and done the job…but it _must've_ shown. He was stoic. Joked less, or more dryly when he did. Cracked a lot fewer smiles. There was a lot less to smile about when you were goin' home alone, and you realized just how bad you hated that.

How much things'd changed.

Castle had been good to him, and he appreciated that. And Ryan…Javier owed the man more than he knew. But this wasn't behind _them_, either. It was affecting them too. He'd known that from his first morning back; the day after the hangover from hell. Beckett had shown up beside his desk, sat down on the edge of it, and, as he looked up, set down a cup of coffee.

"…I want you happy too," was all she'd said. Then, with a fragile half-smile of so much understanding, she'd gotten up, left the coffee, and walked away, back to the job that put them there.

Javier had stared after her for a few moments, too stunned to have thought of a reply quick enough anyway. He'd expected nothing less than a screaming match from Beckett about treating her best friend right. But, if anyone understood complicated messes, it was Kate Beckett, and, at the _very_ least, Javier was relieved he hadn't made an enemy from a friend. She hadn't _needed_ to say anything else. It was already more than she might've said to anyone _else_ in his shoes. With one sentence, she'd made her loyalties to _both_ parties clear, and made it just as clear that she wouldn't speak again on the subject.

When was Beckett ever _not_ efficient?

It was an efficiency Javier wished he could borrow. Just for _one day_. Maybe _then_ he'd know what to do. Maybe then he would realize that he'd been a jerk…no, no: he _knew_ he'd been a jerk. She'd been scared, he _knew_ that now, and he definitely hadn't made things any better… _God_, what was he _thinking_? He shouldn't have yelled at her. He should've gone home that night, even if that'd created an even _bigger_ argument. It would've been better in the long run. Hell: if he'd even stopped at the damn _drugstore_ that afternoon, none of this would've even _happened_…

But it had. And this was where they were now.

All his life, Javier realized, he'd been afraid of one thing. It wasn't guns, it wasn't bombs, and it sure as _hell_ wasn't the street he represented. It was _vulnerability_. It'd been why he'd been the damn 'man-about-town' for so long. When you were moving, it couldn't touch you. But _now_…that fear was the biggest thing he had in common with the one woman who'd become the exception, and they were both too stubborn - too _damn_ unsure - to change where they'd ended up because of it.

So the days had turned into a week, and then another. Whether it was stupid pride or fear of cold rejection, that number remained un-dialed, both ways. This was what he had to do. Man up, give her her space, bottle it up and deal with it alone. When he found out the verdict, he'd deal with his responsibility _then_, when he knew more…in the meantime, it was work. Murder didn't stop. He sat facing his desk computer, _supposedly_ running facial recognition, though - as much as he hated it - every face he 'recognized' was _hers_. And that was how he occupied himself.

Until she texted him.

It was like a moment in one of those crappy movies, the kind where either everybody has a happy ending - _chyeah, right_ - or everybody dies. It was as if, the moment Javier's phone trilled, something in his gut already knew. Lifting the phone to the edge of his desk, he pressed '_read_' without granting it a build-up.

_Hey. Some evidence 4 u down in the morgue_…

It was her typical scrawl, all right; nothing cutesy, no embellishment. The only thing missing was the winking face she usually liked adding to the end. Then again, he could've expected that. Contemplation etched onto his face, Javier took to the keypad.

_I'll send Bckt. Thx_.

…Then he paused, and backspaced all of it.

_Give me 20 mins_.

His hesitation this time was only slight, and then he made himself. _Send_. Standing up, Javier pocketed his cell phone and snatched his jacket from the back of his chair. "Yo _Beckett_. I'm out."

The female partner looked up in concern, but he was already gone, stepping into the elevator. He didn't look back, though he was unsure just what _exactly_ he was looking _forward_ to.

.

.

.

Okay. _There_. Deep in the bright white confines of the morgue, Lanie took in a deep breath, and let it all out again. She'd done it. After at _least_ fifteen discarded drafts of the same text, she'd finally gotten up the nerve to make contact. It was up to _him_ now.

She kind of had to marvel at all this. Even after all the crap she'd put him through, he was _still_ being impossibly sweet: she'd told him in her anger that she'd '_let him know_,' so he'd stayed away. He'd given her that space…of course, it was just as possible that…he wasn't _waiting_ for her at _all_. He could've been over her with fourteen more women by now, for all she knew. Lanie chose not to believe that angle, because it was doing nothing for her stomach. The thing was already flip-flopping as it _was_, just by staring at the clock.

When the door to her exam room finally opened, all that nerve she'd been building up fell straight through to the subway tunnels on some other side of the world. He'd shown up. It was really him pushing open the door and walking into the autopsy room, not something her imagination had made up for her. Even a mental '_Girl, snap out of it_' wasn't going to do it this time. She had more control now, saw clearer now, and she _needed_ this. Seeing him was better than _not_ seeing him, whether or not she was going to be miserable either way.

He didn't look different as he walked over to her. He just looked like _him_. From _Javier's_ eyes, she'd never been more gorgeous. Maybe it was the twisted cruelty of wanting what you couldn't have. He stopped on the opposite side of the empty exam table she was leaning on, and as their eyes met within the same three feet of space, there was no chasm, no divine interruption in the continuum, even though it felt like there _should've_ been. It was just Wednesday. And there they were.

"…Hey," Lanie started, making an attempt to sound like her usual, casual, un-hurting self. Well, _someone_ had to, right?

Javier swallowed, hoping the motion looked as slight as it felt. "What've you got," he said, straightforward.

Something about that didn't sit well with Lanie, but another part of her had anticipated it coming. She deserved that. Now he deserved _this_. Resolutely, slowly, she took something from the covered shelf below the table and laid it on the surface, sliding it in his direction.

A clear plastic baggie. Two pregnancy tests were inside.

Both read negative.

Javier stared down at what she'd produced for him as if the answers to the world were on there somewhere. Lanie withdrew her hand. "…I told you I had evidence for you," she said quietly, ghosting half a smile. Then it disappeared. And she waited.

He didn't need to look for much longer. It was right there. The verdict was final and the answer was no. Evidence spoke. It should've been a reason to breathe. But…somehow, instead, when he looked up at Lanie, he didn't _get_ that breath. There was something there that was still strangling him. "…Evidence of _what_?" he found himself saying.

It was Lanie who gulped now, hoping it didn't show. _That we broke up for nothing. That we broke up for nothing. Say it, just_ say _it…_ "That…I'm not pregnant. So, we're in the clear I s'pose."

Esposito looked at her, forcing all the want in his eyes not to go any further than that. After a moment, he slid the baggie back across the table to her. "Congratulations," he said earnestly. "Appreciate you lettin' me know." She nodded, and there was an _excruciatingly_ long moment of silence. It killed him, but his next words came out just the same. "Is that all?"

What was _wrong_ with them? Lanie had no idea how to just _shake this off_. As badly as she wanted to, her usual brand of sass and confidence just wasn't kicking in, and so the best she could do, feeling sick to herself, was nod. It was only when Javier turned to go that her mouth started working.

"No! …Hold on."

He turned, slowly, tiredly, daring to hope, and she climbed to the top of that bridge, and she jumped.

"I…think we both know that's _not_ all it means…it _means_…that we broke up for basically _nothing_." So there it was.

As much as Javier had _wanted_ this addressed, he never thought it _would_ be. He thought the best thing would be to leave it alone unless she called on it. Now that she _had_, he turned right around, strode right back to _her_ side of that table and suddenly had _no_ control over how much he was laying on the line.

"There was no _we_, Lanie," he clarified. "_I_ didn't _want_ this."

"Neither did _I_! Look, I know I shouldnt've - "

"No," he interrupted, "don't get into that. _I_ get to talk for a second. I'm sorry. I'm sorry for _anything_ and everything that _I_ did wrong. But you know _why_ I didn't go? Because I wanted you too. And I'm not gonna take that back. I don't think _you_ would either. But no matter _what_ happened because of it - what is it gonna take for me to _prove_ to you? I wouldn't leave you. And wouldn't be no _obligation_ keepin' me there either. I thought you knew me better than that. When I said '_I'll let you know if I'm still around_,' that was a lie. I'm not goin' _anywhere_, and if I gotta walk around here for another ten damn _years_ waitin' for you to let me in, then I'll do that. Because I _love_ you, Lanie - "

It was too much. She squeezed her eyes shut. "Don't say that - "

"Why," he demanded. "Why? Because it's the truth? _No_! If you're scared of it, if you're thinkin' you can't believe it as far as you could _throw_ it, I don't care. _Guess_ what - you're not the only fool here who doesn't know what the _hell_ they're doin', but at least _I'm_ not afraid to _say_ it. Like it or live with it, you're gonna _have_ to wake up and deal with it eventually; so _no_, I'm _done_ playin', I'll say it again: I love you, I love you, I - "

"Javier Esposito, if you don't _shut the hell up_…"

They flew together, mouths colliding before they knew what was happening. The most deductive minds in the world wouldn't be able to tell who kissed whom first.

The craving had snowballed, and it dragged them under. Together they seemed to devour each other whole, caving to weakness, making up for the time they'd lost all at once. Javier buried his hand in her hair and brought the other arm tight around her waist; Lanie gripped onto his shoulders and slid her arms around his neck; both of them tried to cheat oxygen for as long as they were allowed to live in this moment.

Eventually, the oxygen won, and when Lanie pulled her lips away from his, she didn't make any other moves to free herself from his touch. She _did_ look up at him with the eyes of someone who wanted to believe, but couldn't. "…It…it can't just be that easy," she tried reasoning. There needed to be another murder up in here, because that damn skeptical side of hers didn't seem to want her happy.

Javier kept his gaze intent, and on her, his lungs and all the rest of him on fire. "Why can't it?" he challenged.

"B-_because_…because _nothing_ ends up working out like some…freakin' _fairytale_, all right? Last I checked this is the _real_ world we're talkin' about here. You comin' in here and sayin' you love me…and…suddenly _that's it_? Everything all works out? Nothing's that…" _What_ was that damn word… "_extraordinary_."

"You're right," Javier said bluntly, "Nothin's that extraordinary." There was no real measure for Lanie's bizarre disappointment level at hearing that… until he kept talking. "_Yeah_ we're gonna fight; _yeah_, we're gonna have to go through a little hell now'n then. But you're not about to deny that we _work_, you and me. So it doesn't exist - so _what_? Good thing I don't _want_ 'extraordinary.' Dunno about _you_, but I'd settle for 'perfect' about now."

And suddenly, in all its backwards glory, it fit. The one, defining word for what they were. _Perfect_. For each other. Screw clichés and all the standards. There it was.

"…Oh, _perfect_, huh?" Lanie began to smile, just enough, staring up into the dark brown eyes of this stupid stubborn jackass that she was never supposed to love in the _first_ place. "You think we're _perfect_ now."

His quipping ability was coming back, and some of it started to show, a grin playing from his eyes down. "Give or take, yeah, I mean _some_ of us could use a little work, but…"

Lanie laughed, relishing what it felt like. "Boy, you are about fifteen kinds of sad right about now…" Just like that, she slid up onto her toes and gladly gave her mouth to his, and he kissed her back with everything he had.

Who knew. Maybe sometimes it _was_ that easy after all.

They both had the feeling they could figure it out just fine.

.

.

**Yay! My fluffy 'shipper self is happy now. Hope you are too. ^^ I've had my angsty fun, so now I officially mark this story 'complete.' I NEVER get to do that! XD**

**As always, if anybody's interested in joining a writing-based Castle RPG, go read the bold paragraph in my profile, thankyamuch. 14-and-over welcome.**

**SO! Thoughts, thoughts, thoughts? I know you guys have 'em! Please, if you'd be so kind as to take a few seconds and drop a review, just to tell me what you liked or what you think or ANYTHING specific you feel like zapping my way, I would immensely appreciate that. You guys are awesome. ^^**

**So thank you for reading! Here's hoping Esplanie don't have another rocky period for a while. ;) There'll be more from me to come, so keep checking. Peace and love.**

.


End file.
